Ask Umbara I Would Like To Buy One Apprentice Please

[Param Vour]

Param didn't much care for Umbara. It was dark, not just in the Force but in light as well. The outside was covered in plants that she would never be learn to grow, and the inside of the academy here felt a shield against a planet that wanted to eat her and a prison meant to keep her inside forever. Master Thel had never made her spend much time in the academy, and for that she lacked the book reading and historical studies that most acolytes would receive there. There was that one potions class, but that was the extent of the classes she had taken here.

She strode down the brightly lit halls in her black robes, leather boots clicking with every step. A lightsaber hilt clipped to her belt bounced against her thigh. Her long silver hair flowed behind her, unable to stay still at her pace. Param was on a mission of sorts. She'd been informed that her new found rank of Champion meant heightened responsibilities. One of those being the ability to train an apprentice. In her schemes and brainstorming of what to do now that she was no longer beholden to Master Thel's teachings or whims, she'd poured over the roster of initiated acolytes. One stood out in particular, and she was here to meet with them.

Making her way around a corner, she came to a training chamber. It was the one she had signed out for them, and sent a notification to her new charge to meet her there. They weren't there yet, which was fine; she was early. Master Thel had a thing against tardiness. The training chamber was a large circular room, with a work bench on the far side. Beside the work bench was a rack of varying objects, ranging from sword length metal bar, to a vibro-sword. Param inspected the rack, almost wishing she'd brought her own sword. No, it wasn't time yet for that.

Param would wait for her new apprentice, continuing to admire the craftsmanship of the weapons on the rack. They may prove useful, but she'd like to get off this rock as soon as she possibly could. Hopefully, with her first voluntold employee for her tea shop in tow.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Theme Music

From within the chamber, Param heard something. Not the approach of a person, but a rhymtic sound: Rattle-rattle, hiss. Rattle-rattle, hiss. Sounded almost like a robotic snake. Looking up would reveal Vossari, bulky headphones on, head-bopping as they sprayed paint from a tin can at the ceiling. He was sitting on scaffolding about eight feet up, totally absorbed with the process of painting.

A wide expanse of red patterns, incorporating Sith lexicon, Wrean typography, and just some stupid cartoons. The spraying continued until Param had fully entered the room. Voss shot around instantly, startled by the intrusion. He hadn't known Sith to be an especially timely bunch so far, so her arriving early completely disrupted his flow. Quickly, Voss, dropped the spray paint can and dropped down from the scaffolding, in a poor attempt to hide their obvious guilt.

"Wow, crazy right? Someone just put all this sick art up." He dropped the cigarra he was smoking to the ground, stomping it out quickly and gracefully. Surely, she hadn't seen that. They outstretched an arm.

"Vossari. You must be my new..." a devious, shit-eating smirk shot to his face as he realized the proper terminology for his new teacher. "mistress?"

While they reeked of lunaweed and paint, their clothes were, surprisingly, completely clean. It was a pretty basic outfit - an oversized, black hoodie and cap with comfortable joggers that hugged their muscular thighs. They wore a plain pair of black Trandoshan-leather sandals with this, revealing the tail end of a long tattoo that was otherwise covered.

He put a steaming, paper cup to his lip. A loud, audible slurp followed. These Sith had been a bunch of lame rich kids so far, but they had great tea. Almost better than the teas of Wrea - so flavorful, spice-filled, and rich in taste and depth. It spoke to the principles of why Voss was here - to partake in the fine, particular splendors of the Sith philosophy. Fine Zygerrian tea steeped with Umbaran honey produced a wonderful flavor, a cultural blend that only the machinations of the Sith have made possible. "Param Vour? Ms. Vour? Mistress P?"

They shrugged, eyes darting around the room with a nervousness they tried to cover with humor. "What should I call you?"

@TheDudeMike

 

[Param Vour]

Param kept her silver gaze up at the art he had very clearly just painted, her face emotionless for a time. Slowly she lowered her eyes to theirs, despite their height difference over her. A smile broke her emotionless stare, rather brightly in fact. It was probably first warm smile they'd seen since coming to Umbara. "It's beautiful!" she chimed. She would make no mention of who had done it. She waved a hand, using the Force to swipe the evidence under the workbench.

"I'm Param," she said excitedly. They'd find her more bubbly than they probably expected. "I called my Master, but I guess Mistress works. Which ever you want. It's nice to meet you, Vossari."

She smelled the tea before she saw it. Oh no, they liked the tea the Umbara faculty make? Param winced, waiting for him to finish his sip before sending a small but forceful telekentic strike into the cup. It would fly out of their hand and splash over the floor. "I'll get you some real tea. The stuff they make here is worse than mud." Their mention of Mistress P made her giggle. "Mistress P, I like that!"

Param took their hand and shook it, finally. "You seem like the lively sort, Vossari," she said. "What have you learned so far here?"

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

As he went for a sip of tea, it was ripped out of his mouth. His lips remained pursed for a moment, as they descended into a slight frown. At least, she seemed like the cheery sort, and not the Jonkler-type of "I WILL LEAVE A PILE OF CARNAGE IN MY WAKE HEE HEE" type of Sith that seemed ever too common. Her friendliness was a welcome relief. But also, we wasn't entirely trustworthy with it, and he didn't appreciate that she wasn't immediately awestruck by his badboy display of edginess & cool graffiti.

"Aight, Ms. P. I want whatever tea you're drinking." Was that how people flirted? It wasn't exactly smooth. Like what does that even mean? He moved on, quickly, to let not the air around them absorb his weirdness. "Ah, you know, Sith stuff. How to wave around the red laser stick. How to move objects. How to plan to kill everyone you know." He shrugged nonchalantly as he looked down at his teacher.

Wait a second.

"How old are you?" Was he about to be lugged around by a 'teacher' the exact same age as him? Ugh, he really should've studied harder these past few years, joined the Sith earlier. It was going to be hella embarrassing to have to get schooled by someone smaller than him in the first place. Were they allowed to be champions at 19? I guess if they weren't horribly incompetent it was possible.

@TheDudeMike

 

[Param Vour]

Param giggled at their antics. They didn't seem to care who or what they were talking to, they were going to live their life. She respected, and enjoyed it. They were cut from a very similar cloth, Param and Vossari. Vossari seemed to be a bit more abrasive than her, but, most people tended to be. "You'll get my tea when I bust you out of here," she said cheerfully with a warm smile. "But first, I'm going to need a demonstration of your abilities."

She turned back her new apprentice, tilting her head with a smile. "I'm nineteen," she said. Param stepped to the side of the weapon rack. "I want you to use the Force to catch what I throw at you, ready?" Of course, she wouldn't wait for him to respond before flicking her wrist. The Force reaching out and tossing the metal rod. It wasn't at Vossari directly to hit them, but in their general direction.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

As the pipe flew around in the general vicinity of Vossari, he reacted with the practiced swiftness of a stoner to catch it. That is to say, none at all. As the pipe drew close, he slowly stretched out a hand to catch it, pulling it in with the force. It took some strain on his part to connect with it, and, at first, the metal rod only reacted slowly. He seemed to catch it at a weird angle, though, and the rod began spinning through the air. It smacked him with a thwack before settling back on the ground, with a loud clang. He obviously struggled to use his powers, but covered it by acting nonchalant.

"Ta-da." He wiggled his fingers theatrically. "Now you, catch." From the ground, Voss kicked up a can of the spray paint into their hand. They tossed her the can, gently, and stretched out his arms. "Can you tag up my clothes? Something unique? I'm trying to style on these kids." His blank, black sweater could use a touch of color. A toothy grin crept to their face. "C'mon, you wanna try?"

@TheDudeMike

 

[Param Vour]

Param winced as the metal pipe hit Vossari. Well, at least they had some semblance of the Force and it's usages. It was a shame they smacked themselves with the pipe though. It looked like it hurt. They took it in stride though, that was good. Pain tolerance in the Sith was a very useful skill. Though she wondered how many nerves the Acolyte had shot by being high instead of actually having a pain tolerance.

The effort put into catching the can tossed to her was minimal. She didn't even need to use the Force. Her Echani reflexes and experience in dodge much worse things allowed her to catch the can with ease. "You want me to paint your clothes? Okay," she said, agreeing with a shrug. She shook the can as she approached him.

Thought she wasn't all that good at art, Param could at the very least draw a rose. She stepped to Vossari's left and painted the outline of a rose on their sleeve and torso, then filled in the details of the petals and core. When she was done, she held the can out for him to take back. "You're an artist?"

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Red paint sprayed across Voss's clothes, and Voss had a laugh. "You're a lot more chill than a lot of people at the academy." He felt like that was a good thing, and trusted his intuition on it, but it certainly wasn't what he had expected. "Yeah, I'm an artist." He looked up at his poorly-done tags, now staining the Sith academy.

"This isn't my best work." He gestured to their graffiti on the ceiling. It was still immature, he knew. Lacking in some special, personal quality. Worse than anything, it was lazy. He would have to correct that. "But yeah, that's why I'm here. Improve my art." He had hear tale of great artists among the Sith, who had used their powers in the force and their passions to create life-changing, spine-tingling sculptures. These works etched themselves into the collective consciousness - contributed to the greatness that he imagined was Sith.

"Not just graffiti, too. I do tattoos. I've been dabbling in sculpture. I, uh, draw." He examined the final product of Param's painting, a shining, red rose. A perfect addition to his stale clothing. "Thanks, P. Appreciate you."

"What about you, any hobbies?" It felt like a weird question to ask, but he was just making conversation. He didn't really know how these mistress/acolyte relationships went, outside of dubious videos that, ahem, romanticized the situation quite a bit. "And, uh, what do I need to for you to 'bust me out of here'?" He said, playfully putting his fingers into air quotes. Their gleaming, brown eyes burned with curiosity, and they touched a finger to their plump lips. "Or was the metal bar test it?" They hoped not. It seemed like they hadn't passed that one.

@TheDudeMike

 

[Param Vour]

More chill than a lot of people at the academy? Param was sure of it. Kai (@Sreeya) had always said she wasn't like other Sith, and since the first time he said it she had striven to keep that a reality. Some saw her as a weakness, but they usually ended up on the wrong end of her lightsaber, or whatever weapon she had at the time. "I'm not like the others," she said, quoting the most important person to her.

Looking up at the tagging he'd done to the ceiling, she was disappointed he'd admit to it; a remnant of her own Master's secrecy. She loved that he was honest with her, as someone who didn't lie herself. "If this isn't your best work, I look forward to what you do on the wall I have built for you at my garden," she said. Param gave him a warm smile. "Having hobby outside of the philosophies of the Sith is good. My Master never really focused on philosophy, only assets and liabilities."

A smirk spread across her lips. "Martial arts and gardening mostly. But I've been known to let loose once or twice. Even had some Orcish Shrooms once," she said. "The the metal bar test was mostly it, the real test when we get back to my garden." She reached up, cupping one of their cheeks with her hand. Stepping back from them, Param rest her hands on her hips. "There's only one rule with this apprenticeship, Vossari. I need you to always be one-hundred percent honest with me. Can I count on you to do that?"

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

"Your garden?" A Sith teenager with a gardening habit. It seemed rather strange. She was like a kindly, old lady packed into a young, Sith body.

But then the question. He wasn't 'one-hundred percent' honest with anyone, not even himself. Maybe like seventy-five percent, eighty percent on a good day. Moreover, the Sith weren't an order built on trust, but ambition. Binding himself to loyalty to his mistress was perhaps expected, but was it wise longterm? "Okay, look." They stuck out a hand, for a shake. "I'll be as honest as I can. But you have to know, I won't be able to tell you everything, right? Do you want some kind of 'don't ask, don't tell' protocol?" Their hand remained stuck out as they blathered on.

"If you can accept that, then I can guarantee I won't lie to you. It's a deal."

@TheDudeMike

 

[Param Vour]

"That's right, Vossari. My garden. I also have a tea shop," she said with a smile. Param took his hand and shook it, her grasp gentle and as graceful as all of her movements. He spoke of being as honest as he could be, and a don't ask don't tell policy when they wouldn't be able to. That was okay with Param, but she felt he was mistaking her request for honesty as a way to pry into his life and dealings. However, they were Sith at the end of the day. In the dark recesses of her mind a fanged grin appeared, but she didn't dare think of him here.

"Deal," she said, extending her hand and shaking his. "How long would it take you to gather your things?" The sooner they were off this miserable rock the better.

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

They stretched out their hand, using the Force to recall the duffel bag full of pain cans towards their palm. When they caught it, they pursed their full lips to let out a long, dwindling whistle. "This is all I've got, P. I'm ready to go." Well, it wasn't really true, but he wasn't attached to his clothes or mementos or shit like that. That would be totally immature and beneath an artist of his standing.

Except for...

Wait a second.

"Hey, actually, hang on. Can we stop by the dormitory reallllll quick? Something I gotta grab before we scoot on outta here." He hurried out of the room before he waited for a response, gesturing for Param to follow him. Umbara was so fragging dark all the time it was hard to make sense of where you were. So, upon leaving the training room for the wider antechamber, he was immediately lost. "Did you train here? You remember which direction it is?" They were more than a little stoned at this point, and they had just caught a ride over here in the first place. Did you have to go east, then north? Was it past the cafeteria?

They were on the third floor - Voss immediately bolted for a nearby staircase. "I think it's this way!" They hollered, sprinting down the long, spiral steps. "Don't ask for directions, I got it!" Unfortunately, he did not have it. Whether or not Param had attended the Umbara academy, she would most certainly be able to tell he was navigating completely wrong.

@TheDudeMike

 

[Param Vour]

Param went to stop him for a moment, but he was gone. She half expected a comical puff of dust in his wake, like the cartoons she had been watching recently. She followed him, of course, noticing a sign right outside the door that pointed at the dorms the in opposite direction that Vossari was now sprinting. Her face met her palm as she shook her head. She was here for his energy though. It was refreshing to see in a Sith. A frown cross her lips before she followed after them. Param knew all too well that Vossari would have to fight to keep himself, just like had to.

Eventually a bright smile lit up her face as she followed her new apprentice through the halls of the academy. "I didn't train here," she answered. "My master was more of a practical type, taking me on missions gather resources and assets." She couldn't help but laugh as he sprinted down the staircase. It took her a while, but she finally caught up to him.

"Vossari," she said softly, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. Her other hand pointed to a sign on the wall. A sign that had the word "Dorms" printed on one of the arrows. "Your first lesson, is to slow down. Observe. Most things will be hiding in plain sight." It wasn't even a Sith lesson. "Let's go to the dorms, now." She gave him a bright, warm smile and let his shoulder go.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

They took a deep breath, following Param's line of sight to the brightly glowing 'dorms' sight. Embarrassment rose to their cheeks, and with it, a flash of anger. Why was she so...nice? What was her endgame? Was she mocking him? He considered the cost of defiance right now - he had heard of master's killing their apprentices over mistakes. Was that just an exaggeration spread by the Sith, or was he secretly, silently, being judged by the Champion assigned to teach him?

He shrugged her hand off his shoulder as he stomped ahead towards the dorms. "If you didn't train on Umbara, where did you train?" They were generally curious as to how someone got involved in the Sith, and made it far enough to advance. Certainly, throughout their time at the academy, they had seen and met higher-ranked Sith. But this would be the first time really fraternizing with one.

They paced down the winding hallways towards the dorms. Vossari, being self-financed and generally broke, had the meager assortments of the old barracks: A beat-up mattress in a massive room full of bunk beds. Other Acolytes-in-training joked with one another, played games, argued, and did their school work across the the corners of the space. Vossari stumbled in, quietly, and bee-lined towards. Underneath their bed sat a trunk - Vossari kicked it open, spilling its contents to the floor. Mostly dirty clothes and papers full of scribbles spilled out, but something sat on top. Green, made of yarn. Voss called it into their hand, and Param would get a glimpse at what they held. A froggy wallet.

Their smile returned, contented to have this object. "Alright, I'm ready to go."

@TheDudeMike [/justify]

 

[Param Vour]

Param followed him towards the dorms. She could sense his frustration, or at the very least the fringes of it. A flash of anger, confusion. It was nothing new to her. She felt the same things more often than not every time she witnessed something new in the galaxy. He would come to learn eventually that this was just how she was; not like other Sith at all. "Most of my training was on the planet that we'll be going to, but my Master had me accompany him across many planets for all sorts things."

She watched him kick the trunk, grabbing a cute little wallet. Param smiled, and gave him a nod. Turning, she began to lead him through the winding halls toward where her ship was parked. "My master was focused on monetary and asset gain. Instead of philosophy, language, and history, I was learning how and when to end lives."

It was a fairly short walk to the hangar. Param led her apprentice up the ramp to her ship, closing the ramp once they were both on. She wasn't about to run the risk of other Sith boarding and eaves dropping. A small red and silver BD-unit scrambled from the cockpit to greet them, beeping and whirring at Vossari. "It's okay, Vee. This is my new apprentice, Vossari. Vossari, this is my friend, Vee." Param said, introducing the the two. Vee looked Vossari up and down, as if it were defending the ship. "Can you prepare us to return to Troiken, Vee?" Param requested. Vee let out a string of reluctant beeps, and scurried back toward the cockpit.

"He gets a bit defensive around new people," Param said, turning to Vossari with a smile. "Now that we're away from prying ears, do you have any questions for me? There are no wrong questions; you won't be punished."

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

Voss followed P into the hangar, waving bye to the friends he had made at the academy: None. A shit-eating grin sat plastered on his face, and his wave contained his unique brand of condescension. He was better than this meagre academy and its loser students. Now, fate had decided it was time for them to prove that through deeds rather than thoughts. His teacher would be the catalyst for that. He understood the ideas - the basics of the Sith Code. But now, with the right teacher, he could learn the true path to power.

But philosophy, language, and history added the flavor that his artistic creations required. He needed the history of the Sith; the ancient knowledge of the Dark Side and its place in the universe. Once he had that arcane knowledge, his art could communicate it to the fawning masses. It could spread the truth that this path was the only road to freedom.

"Troiken? Never heard of it." From the viewport, Vossari watched as Umbara became a distant, dark blip in a cold galaxy. The ship hurdled through the starry expanse of the void. "Yeah, I have a few." There were so many he could ask - who she really was, what the nature of their training would look like, what specific skills she would endow him with. But first, a question that could get the conversation going.

"Could you describe your ideal day to me?" He tore a sheet of paper and produced a marker, ready to scribble a crude drawing while she responded.

@TheDudeMike

 

[Param Vour]

"Neither did I, until I was taken there," Param said. "It's where my garden and tea shop are. For now." She gave him a warm smile, listening to the rest of his questions. He still didn't understand she wasn't like other Sith. He would learn. In time, she hoped he would consider her a friend. Her ideal day? It was the one thing she couldn't be honest to him about. Not yet. He'd have to settle with her second best ideal day for her.

"The day would be sunny, and I'd get to spend the day tending to my garden. Watering, feeding, filling every sense with creatures that have a place, a design, and a purpose. There's no fighting, and from the death that does occur, new life begins. That's what my ideal day would be," she said. "At least the one I can tell you about. You have to earn actual answer." She sighed.

"Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion I gain strength. Through strength I gain power. Through power I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me," she recited softly. "Can you tell me what that means to you, Vossari?"

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

That sounded like a really pleasant day. "Oh word? You really like this gardening ish then, yeah?" Truthfully, his ideal day wouldn't be much different. Just working on his craft. Every day he did that was ideal. He respected that about Param, about gardening: it required discipline, tenacity, and consistency to make happen. A seed needed care to grow. He felt the same about his art - not so much the graffiti, but the pottery. Clay working required intention, care, tenderness; they poured their soul into the work.

"You know, I think about it a lot. There are so many different ways to interpret it." He scrunched up, hunching over as he ruminated on the topics. "But, let's start at the beginning. 'Peace is a lie, there is only passion.' That's dialectics. The idea that things are composed of their contradictions. Like you - you're a nice, calm Sith. That's a contradiction. That contradiction causes turmoil. And everything - every object, every group, every nation, every star system, every faction is composed of contradictions. That's why there's war, disagreement, conflict. It's inherent. Thus, peace is a lie." He tried to study his Sith philosophy coursework as closely as possible, and bring his personal opinions towards that study. It informed the direction their art would go in.

"So, without Peace as an obtainable goal, we're left with passion. The things we care about, the things we strive for, how we navigate these contradictions. That makes us strong. And by the force of our ideas and our passions, we can gain true power over ourselves and over the galaxy. Our mental chains, shackling ourselves to the ideas of an inherently corrupt galaxy, are broken. The Force sets sets us free." As he spoke, his eyes were darting to the canvas where he doodled. What had started as a simple drawing of plants in a garden became chaotic, abstract; as if to illustrate the concepts they spoke to. Animals flew about in this garden of scribbles - giant bugs and tiny cats, under canopies of sunflowers and weeds. It was all line-work done with a thick, red marker. The end product was chaotic. But the singular color unified it.

"The Force sets us free from our self-imposed limitations."

@TheDudeMike

 

[Param Vour]

Param listened to Vossari. It was a stark contrast to what her own Master had said to her about the code. Her Master had just said "It's drivel and non-sense" and continued training her how to use the Force and kill things. It was right along the same time he had used the Force to choke her. At the time she didn't think anything of it, but she'd been in denial. Param wouldn't do the same thing to Vossari. His mistakes would be his to own, but she would not go out of her way to harm him as her Master had done to her, albeit mildly.

"Impressive!" she said cheerfully. Param held out her hand, wanting to see the drawing he had done. "Can I see?" She paused, whether he showed her or not. "What are your passions, Vossari? When you think of them, what kind of emotions do you feel?" She was gauging him, not on a power or Sith level, but on a personal level. Param herself was no stranger to hate and anger, but most of her passion came from love of all things. Her passion to protect the people she cared about, from everything and everyone including herself. She had always been, and still was, afraid of drawing from hate and anger.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Vossari Khaldun]

"It's pretty simple. Life. Freedom. Creativity. Those are the big three." It always started that way, didn't it? A pure connection to the ideas that becomes dirtied over time. They passed their cartoon over to Param. "I've been fucked over before, P. I'm going to get even, too." Yes, embedded in the chaotic, joyful freedom that Vossari embodied was the contradiction. A pride. A desire for respect. While now just a seed, this too would grow in time, like the many flowers of Param's garden.

"But, to me, we're on the cutting edge. That's what I'm passionate about. We've got our eyes in every corner, shadow, and cult in the galaxy. It's enough to get your blood pumping!" They pumped up a fist, to emphasize the point. "But, you know, I could ramble all day. You're gonna be my teacher, right? What's your...vibe? Like, what are we going to build together? What are you working on?" Gardening was all well and good, but...the teacher/student relationship required something greater. She mentioned shrooms before. Maybe she was into mind-altering substances?

"What are your passions?"

@TheDudeMike